First One Out of the Pan
by EntrancedCat
Summary: Daria and Quinn discover a relative whom Helen and Jake were hiding from them.
1. The Pancakes, The Scar, and The Storm

**First One Out of the Pan**

"It's like pancakes," Quinn said to Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany as the Fashion Club members gathered at the Schloss Morgendorffer kitchen table to discuss their strategy for Cashman's Winter sale over breakfast. "Everybody knows you never eat the first one out of the pan. You feed it to the dog."

"But you don't have a dog, Quinn," Stacy helpfully pointed out.

"Oh, Daria, here. You want a pancake? It's fresh out of the pan," Quinn asked her older sister who had conveniently just walked into the kitchen.

Quinn held out a plate laden with a slightly off-center pancake.

Daria yawned, scratched and observed the four girls taking up all the chairs around the Morgendorffer's kitchen nook table. Even in her pre-coffee state of less than full wakefulness, Daria noted the slight smirk on each face. She also noted that the girls were still in their sleep-ware, much as she was: tasteful, cute pyjamas for the Clubbies and a long tee-shirt, baggy shorts and high socks for Daria.

"Thanks, Quinn," She took the plate and sat at the kitchen island after starting coffee. "You know I thought I saw a heaping van load of football players slowly cruising by. You never know when they might stop and ask for directions or pancakes or something."

"Football players!" Quinn exclaimed. "Oh no!"

Each girl pawed at her untidy, unmade hair which she would only allow other Fashion Club members to catch her sporting or non-entities such as Daria. The four girls scampered out of the kitchen each leaving a plate with half-eaten breakfasts surrounding a larger plate with fresh, hot, untouched round as round pancakes.

"To the victor," Daria said not bothering to finish the quote as she sat at the table in Tiffany's vacated chair, Daria's customary spot by the window.

Daria heaped more pancakes on her plate and added butter and real maple syrup followed by blueberries. She thanked whatever gods there be presiding over her breakfast nook that this was one of the Fashion Club's every-other-Saturday diet-cheat mornings.

"_And thank you, sis. You always make great fresh pancakes. It's a talent to make up for your general lack of other worthy skills."_

She happily sipped coffee, stuffed spongy pancakes into her mouth and read the Lawndale broadsheet while occasionally smirking at the frantic rustling noises coming from Quinn's room. When Daria was satiated of coffee and pancakes the small teen pushed her plate back and settled back to pick apart the arguments in the opinion section.

Her right leg twitched and Daria glanced around what she could see of the empty first floor before she hiked up her tee shirt to scratch at her inner thigh.

"_Going to be a change in weather soon," _She speculated to herself. Daria pushed aside the blinds to watch the storm clouds gathering in the north on an otherwise bright, sunny day.

"_Some people get a trick knee to forecast the weather; me, I get a trick thigh. Hey, let me rephrase that even to myself."_

Not for the first time she absently wondered at the line which ran straight, narrow and whiter than her pale skin along her inner thigh. Only two people outside family and medical personnel knew of it: best friend Jane Lane and ex-boyfriend Tom Sloane. Jane's artist eye noticed everything. For Tom Daria had let his eyes, hands and yes, mouth explore higher than was her usual wont one hormone drenched evening.

She knew that when she was very young, right before Quinn even came along, before she could remember much, she had been cut with glass by accident on that thigh. Daria also knew that glass could break into fragments sharper than surgical steel. Father Jake had clamped his hand over the cut and heavily pregnant Mother Helen drove them to the emergency room like hell on wheels. When she would tell the tale on rare occasions, Helen said she could not tell who was wailing the louder, father Jake or baby Daria. Still except for its prognosticating power Daria rarely gave the narrow scar a thought although something seemed a little off about things.

Daria got up from the kitchen table to answer the need of her kidneys filled with two cups of coffee in the early morning. She paused as the doorbell rang and four impeccably coiffed and artfully casually dressed teen girls came down the stairs to answer.

"Robert! Joaquin!" Quinn exclaimed as the doorway filled with beefy teenage boys. "Joey, Jeffy, uh, Jammy. What a pleasant surprise. So where are you taking us?"

On impulse, unusual as it was, Daria sauntered from the kitchen area into full view of the assembled teens. As she paused to let the Clubbies shift positions in their sudden horror of her presence, she noted with interest that the boys' eyes were widening as they looked at her in her modest but apparent sleep wear.

Daria enjoyed the boys' response almost as much as the horrified looks on the Clubbies' faces as she paused at the foot of the stairs to propose in her sweetest voice, "Quinn, could you all wait about fifteen minutes? I would love, absolutely love, love to get out this Saturday morning. You don't mind me tagging along, do you guys?"

Not waiting for an answer she turned and walked slowly up the stairs. Daria smiled as she heard the boys quickly give their assents.

"_Ugh, boys are terrible; I can feel their eyes on my butt. My ass in this baggy oversize, below my knees cotton shirt no less. Boys are bad but I'm worse; it's making my put some sway in my walk. Yep, I'm going to hell."_

Thoughts of eternal destiny were stopped by more pecuniary concerns as, just as Daria predicted, she heard Quinn quickly scramble up the stairs after her.

Quinn waited to accost her until they were down the hall a few steps and out of sight of her visitors.

"Daria, wait. You can't go out with us."

She turned and stood nose-to-nose with her kid sister.

"No? I heard Robert, Jeffy, Joey and Jamie and that other guy all agree heartily to my added presence and they're driving or at least one of them is. You think that's too many Morgendorffers? You stay home, Quinn."

"Okay, Okay, Daria. How much?"

"Seventy-five."

"You're killing me. Thirty."

"Don't insult my intelligence, sis. You do a good enough job insulting your own. Six—"

A low rumble of thunder distant and deep; a twitch of her nostrils as she caught ozone in the hall, and a twitch of her thigh as her scar prickled and tickled and twinged stopped Daria in mid counter-proposal. Quinn looked at her expectantly, each Morgendorffer sister knew that they would settle at fifty but Daria suddenly knew they would not.

"You know what, Quinn? I do want to go out with such delightful company, you, Tiffany, Sandi, Stacy, Robert, the mustache guy, Joey, Jeffy, and I think that other one IS named 'Jamie'. It's going to storm."

Daria leaned in even closer to her sister. "I love storms."

"At least don't wear such geeky clothes," Quinn pleaded to her sister's back as Daria turned and entered her room.

Daria stuck her head back out the doorway. "No, and you know what else, Quinn? You're right. I won't wear my usual 'geeky' clothes.

Daria's accent changed to something both sisters could ape easily but which Quinn never, ever considered using in Lawndale, not even only with family unless Jake bribed her on the rare occasion he grew nostalgic for West Texas.

"Thanks, sister dear." Daria twanged. "I got me some new duds I've been itching to break out. Now scoot downstairs and entertain your gentlemen guests before your frenemies get their meat hooks deeper into them fellers. I'll shower right quick, dress and be down, eh, when I'm down. Two shakes of a lamb's tail. Run along now."

Quinn blinked and stood aghast as she listened to the Texas accent Daria had unexpectedly adopted and exaggerated. Then Quinn stared gobsmacked as her sister did something utterly past imaging and out of character: she stuck her long cat-pink tongue out at Quinn before pulling her otherwise deadpan mug into her room and closing the door soundly.

As she turned to go downstairs, Quinn spun in place then as she heard Daria's door reopen. Daria leaned against the door frame and gave her a sickly sweet smile.

"By the by, Quinn dear. You're just as cute as a bug's ear, you are."

"Daria! Are you mental in the morning? Please don't talk like—" Close, click snap. The door's crisp locking cut her off.

"I was right," Quinn muttered to herself as she descended the stairs in a demi-daze. "The first pancake is cursed or something. Cursed for me that is, doesn't matter who eats it."

Quinn raised her eyes from contemplation of the floor as Sandi Griffin accosted her at the foot of the stairs. She heard the murmur of the Pigskin Channel from the living room.

"Quinn, your cousin or whatever, is NOT to come with us."

"Sandi," Stacy cut in. "I think that it's nice we have the chance offer fashion help and exhibit popularity cues to the less fortunate. Besides, Daria and that other one Janet or something helped me up the other day after I tripped on my shoelaces. You know, I think sometimes even _Waif _can get things wrong or at least unsafe; long, long shoelaces with huge bows are cute and everything but, but, oh, I want to use a big word here, Mr. O'Neill mentioned it in English. Starts with a 'p'."

"Perilous." Tiffany unexpectedly, prodigiously pulled out the word slowly.

Three girls stared at their Asian-American comrade. They discussed the pros and cons of including Daria or persuading the malleable boys into absconding without her until they heard the soft and assertive tread of Daria's boots coming down the stairs. They saw Tiffany's eyes widen as she looked over their heads and Sandi, Stacy and Quinn all pivoted to look up.

"Eep," Stacy, Sandi and Quinn shrieked together.

"That's so, so," Tiffany paused. "Something."

Daria stopped at the foot of the stairs, stood ramrod straight and looked from Fashion Clubbie face to Fashion Clubbie face. "What?"

"My eyes." Stacy said.

"Sister," Quinn gasped. "Daria is my sister." Quinn barely had presence of mind to clap her hands over her mouth at her sudden divulgence.

"I know, Quinn." Sandi said weakly. "I know."

Sandi rallied, "Quinn, like, your sister or whatever is wearing white after Labor Day."

"That's so wrong." Tiffany said finding her strength as well.

The heavy tread of football playing males hardly registered on any of the girls except Daria as the Schloss Morgendorffer foyer was quickly crowded with more teenagers. Daria found herself standing as the center of attention in the foyer for once not ill at ease with so many eyes upon her.

"You look very nice today, ma'am."

"Wow, Daria, great clothes."

"Yeah, oh, please wear those in school next week, Daria. Please?"

"Yeah, every other day, that and your usual, uh, uh, uniform. That'd be hot, I mean, oh gosh."

Daria permitted the fifth Lawndale Lion present, Joaquin, to simply take her hand for a moment in adoration.

"Well, thanks I guess." Daria said.

Quinn was silently thankful that the Texas affectation was replaced by her sister's customary deadpan monotone. As if anything was customary on Quinn's flapjack cursed morning.

The ten teens had barely noticed that the sky had darkened deeply until a bright flash and strobe of lightening highlighted Daria's white leather ten-eyelet boots with white soles and silver laces, crisply pleated white miniskirt, and magenta jacket over a cerulean blue tee shirt. Everyone but Daria jerked and jumped as the flashes were followed quickly by crashing roll of thunder. Daria merely buttoned her magenta wrap covering its inner cerise lining.

"So where ARE you taking us?" Daria asked. "I suppose the new Museum of Medical Oddities in Oakwood is too much on a casual first excursion. We could go to the old quarry and stand outside in the lightning but it's asking too much that only certain select people get struck."

Having recovered from the initial shock of Daria's inverted clothing, Sandi saw an opening in Daria's question.

"Not only where but how?" Sandi began haughtily. "There are ten of us now and only one vehicle. I think some select people have to stay here."

Sandi followed up with meaningful long looks at the Morgendorffer sisters and Stacy Rowe for good measure.

"Au contraire," Joaquin spoke up. "My vehicle is enough to hold ten teens in more than agreeable comfort."

Joey spoke up as he led the teens out the door, "Yeah, Sandi, Joaquin's bro-in-law owns that big used car dealership. Check out this ride."

Much of the Morgendorffer's driveway was taken up by a white and light-green van, massive but understated in its stylish Mercedes-Benz German craftsmanship manner. The license plate sported a 'Happy Herb's Autos' frame.

Daria's leg prickled and tickled intensely but she fought down any twitch. She noted that the sky was getting even darker with regular flashes emphasizing her magenta, cerulean and white clothing over the now dull in comparison attire of the Fashion Club.

Joaquin solicitously took her hand and squired Daria to the front passenger door. He opened it for her and she unnecessarily let him help her up into the high bucket seat. The other boys helped the four remaining girls by opening van doors and helping them into their own seats in the van. Joaquin took command in the driver seat and looked around to make sure his passengers were all buckled down.

"Well, fair ladies," Joaquin said as he started his machine. "Unless someone wants 20,000 volts I guess our first idea of a walk on the beach is out. How about that new expansion at the arcade? They've got a climbing wall and they keep the little kids out of the teen area now."

Daria noticed the slight accent now appearing in Joaquin's speech and she noticed that the 'fair ladies' bit sounded better from him than the boy who would normally use that cheesy line, Upchuck.

"Drive on, Joaquim," Daria commanded. "Anywhere, just keep talking."

She put her head back and let the comfortable head rest and bucket seat cradle her. Daria was giving up command and control in a van full of strange boys and the Fashion Club and for once she did not care.

"It's 'Joaquin', ma'am," Joaquin smiled at Daria without reproach and actually winked. He put the van in motion and carefully backed out of the Morgendorffer driveway. "And Joaquin is absolutely at your service, Daria. I will relate tales of my family and their friendship with the great hero Emiliano Zapata in Old Mexico."

Hard rain drops made dinner plate sized splashes on the windshield as they headed down the street.


	2. The Prizes The Girls Have

Daria sat contentedly in the front passenger bucket seat on the drive returning to Schloss Morgendorffer that afternoon. Without embarrassment she hugged the neck of the huge unicorn plushie with its long soft black hair, twisty golden horn and silver mane, the legs of which she had splayed over her lap.

She listened to the four other females in the van playing with their own oversized plushies turning the heads this way and that to comment on attractions on the street or flirting with the boys in affected voices which each girl thought was appropriate for her type of fancifully patterned animal.

"_I'm the only one with a unicorn." _Daria thought as she glanced over at Joaquin whose skill at stand-the-bottle had won her the right to pick a grand prize. _"Wish Jane were along. She would love that big mauve wolf with silver fangs or maybe the magenta killer whale."_

As he taught the other Lawndale Lions how to win at arcade games, Joaquin modestly credited his cousin Julio the carnival barker for showing him the tricks of each game. The five boys could have walked away with an arcade's stock of plushy prizes but the attendant had begged them to consider his job and even Sandi and Quinn said they were content with one each.

Daria stirred as the van came to a gentle stop in the Morgendorffer driveway. Five boys leaped from their seats to open van doors and squire out five girls onto the damp pavement. Daria's default social reticence was returning and she shyly, barely met Joaquin's eyes when her boots landed on solid footing and her hand landed in Joaquin's assured gentle grip.

"Thanks, that was fun. I better get in before it rains again." Daria smiled shyly gently pulling her hand from Joaquin's. "Though it looks like the big, wet rainstorm's over."

For an instant, she thought Joaquin was going to kiss her hand but he only returned a gentle smile and nod and made his way to the driver's seat.

Daria and Quinn stood in front of their front door stoop and waved at their friends in the departing van. Daria took a bracing, pleasing breath of pertichor. Quinn did not notice her sister jerk slightly as her scar unexpectedly gave a twinge.

"Daria, thanks for coming! That was fun. Who knew that you and Sandi would be the fastest ones up the climbing wall? If those short, stubby legs of yours weren't so, uh, short and stubby I bet you could easily beat her."

Daria considered a quick slap-down comment for Quinn when she paused to consider, _"Quinn's eyes are twinkling even in this half-light. I think, I think she's what's the word? Teasing me."_

Not having a response Daria simply looked down at her white skirt in confusion which Quinn took to be embarrassment.

"Oh Daria, I am just joking you know. Your legs are absolutely beautiful! And when you went up that wall, all those pervy guys thought they'd get an eyeful flash of your unmentionables but you wore those workout shorts. I mean I think they liked it anyway, pervs that boys are, but you tricked them. Huh? And wow, Jamie won me this rhino stuffy to match Mr. Boggs. I'm going to name this one 'Mr. Biggs'. What are you going to name your unicorn? He's cute too, I guess, or striking? A black unicorn? Only you could find and choose a black unicorn, Daria. Wow, you really made an impression on Joaquin the Latin Lion. He's quiet but you can tell he likes you and he never paid much attention to any girls before. He's so, so good Latin looking and always drives nice cars. It was so frustrating but we started to think he was you know. And—"

"Quinn, Quinn," Daria decided to keep the weirdness coming so she took her kid sister's hands in hers. "Let's just, uh, let today be today and savor it before we return to the status quo of benign ignoring and occasional snark and undermining plots tomorrow."

Quinn nodded but took a breath to continue.

"That means 'shut up' for a minute. Quinn," Daria gently put two fingers on Quinn's lips. "Let's see if Mom and Dad are back from the big annual marital retreat."

Quinn smiled and unlocked the front door. The teens entered to find a quiet house with no lights burning. Even without further exploration they sensed Helen and Jake had not returned. They entered the kitchen and put their plush prizes in their usual spots around the kitchen table.

As they surveyed the remnants of breakfast for five still on the table, Daria did not question Quinn's almost mute mutter, "Maybe the first one from the pan is good luck."

The answering machine dinged and Quinn activated it to hear mother Helen inform her daughters that they would be home the next day having run into some unexpected business to take care of.

Quinn and Daria smirked at each other and shared a shudder of revulsion as they both imagined that the 'unexpected business' was likely the unexpected support and comfort of the bed at whatever hotel their 'rents were occupying. In silence they cleaned the dishes and kitchen with Daria relishing the taste of cold bacon.


	3. First One Into the House, Next Morning

Next morning, Daria heard a commotion in the garage indicating that at least her father was home. She got up from her spot under the window to open the access door.

Scratching lightly at her thigh Daria threw open the door and jumped back in surprise.

"Gah," She said into the face of the tall girl standing on the top step of the short stair set up to the kitchen level.

The girl startled but recovered. "Gah, yourself. How about 'Hi sis' for starters?"

"Braje, Braje," Daria heard her mother call from the car. "Let me talk to Daria first, please sweetie."

"_Braje?" _Daria stepped back to allow the smiling girl to enter the kitchen. _"What's a 'Braje'? I think the girl in my house is one. 'Sis'?!"_

The stranger stopped in the middle of the kitchen, dropped a full duffel bag and turned towards Helen coming in the access door.

"Sure Aunt Helen, I mean, uh, Mom, but I need to explain to her too."

The smile disappeared as Braje dropped her eyes to the floor.

"Daria, I am your sister. There I said it. I'm your older sister and Daria-."

Sobs now. Braje shook and Daria saw tears form faster than Stacy Rowe's waterworks caught in some imagined fashion faux pas.

Daria's scar burned; it jerked her out of her bewilderment. She knew, more than she knew she remembered. From fifteen years before as though it happened to her yesterday Daria remembered. A memory as vivid as her hand in Joaquin's but dark and disturbing and so real and bright in its absolute assurance.

"You! I remember. I was so tiny but I remember." Daria wanted to choke back her words but they came out. "You, Braje or whatever. You, you cut me. You, yes my sister, wanted to cut me. You broke a bottle and slashed open my vein."

Daria barely heard Braje wail, collapse and bang the floor. Daria did not dare run for the downstairs powder room. She pulled a small lined garage can from under the kitchen sink and vomited.


	4. AND SISTER MORGENDORFFER MAKES FIVE

"So, Mom, Dad," Daria paced the living room in front of the TV, her rage giving her roles as presiding judge, duly seated jury, and ever-so-angry prosecutor. "Did you bring her back to finish the job?"

For emphasis she hiked her skirt high on the right and twisted her leg to exhibit her right thigh to her mother, father, Quinn and this Braje girl. As all but Quinn gasped Daria let them linger their attention on her white line of evidence.

Daria shied away as the girl Braje dropped from her seat on the couch and stuck a hand out at her thigh. Braje's other hand clapped itself over her mouth and Braje went no farther allowing herself to let Helen pull her back onto the couch.

"Daria, no, kiddo, uh," Jake surprisingly was the first to attempt an answer although Daria was not surprised at her father's ineptitude at the attempt.

Quinn was sitting to one side of Braje who was in the middle of all the Morgendorffers and facing Daria directly. Quinn was staring transfixed at newly-presented, at least according to her parents, sister Braje's three-quarters profile.

As Helen, Jake and Braje struggled to answer Daria's question, put in her usual deadpan tone and about deadly matters, Daria had a moment to be amazed at the object of Quinn's evident fascination.

"_Braje is absolutely beautiful," _Daria thought as she watched Quinn turn her head side to side to look at Braje. Quinn did not bother to even try to hide her perusal of the older teen. Daria did not know which aspect of the bizarre situation Quinn was more fascinated with: the prospect of another sister or Braje's beauty, likely both. Daria was surprised the she herself was so cognizant of Braje's attractiveness.

"_No other word for it, Braje is beautiful. The most beautiful Morgendorffer here or ever or Barksdale either I guess. Probably now the most beautiful girl in Lawndale. Think of the Fashion Club's impending reaction!"_

Quinn was cute, an inadequate word to describe the charm, grace and attractiveness of her kid sister, at least her kid sister at first overall impression. Daria knew that she herself was quite attractive; she neither regretted that fact, tried to hide her features overmuch or play them up. In public however, whatever the audience and situation, Daria knew that she and Quinn would have been utterly ignored while in the company of the creature currently on the couch in front of her.

At least if the spectators looked into the face of the high-cheeked, peaches-and-cream, green-eyed visage of the girl-creature after ignoring the doughty, frumpy, baggy clothing the body hanging limply on the body.

"_God," _Daria thought. _"I should take ugly dressing lessons from my assailant. I think there is a slender, healthy body in that mis-matched mess of cloth pieces somewhere. What the hell am I thinking of? This most beautiful Morgendorffer tried to kill me. No amount of underdressing me makes up for that."_

Daria shook her head to clear it and listen to her mother and father stammer.

"Kiddo," Jake began. "Daria, I mean. My sister, your aunt."

"Yeah, Dad," Daria said dryly. "My father's sister is my aunt. That's the way it works."

"Your aunt and uncle, Daria, Quinn," Jake said more confidently. "They passed away a week ago."

"Mom and Dad." The Morgendorffers were startled by Braje's sudden cry and sobs. She buried her face in her hands and shook.

Helen went over to Braje and held her. Quinn and Daria looked at each other their mouths gaping unable to come up with words. They were used to their mother being the parent to relate hard news while Jake stood by as backup and emotional support, if he did not flee the room in panic.

"When we said each year, kiddos," Jake continued. "That we were going on a marital retreat, well, we lied kind of sort of anyway. We were visiting Karen and Sam and Braje."

"Go on," Quinn said tightly.

With Quinn's unexpected comment it came home to Daria that this surreal situation and possible threat concerned more than herself. She stood in front of Quinn and extended her hand. Quinn bit her lip then took let Daria gently pull her up. The two younger sisters stood in front of the TV and looked at their family.

"Karen and Sam," Jake pressed on. "Died in a car accident a couple weeks ago. Well, it's complicated but Braje grew up thinking they were her parents. Mom and I are her parents naturally or biologically or you know; Karen and Sam, they couldn't have children, the either of them and after, um, after, Braje, um"

"Cut me," Daria said to help him out.

"Yeah, after that incident well, we thought she needed, you, we all needed a, a breather."

Jake swallowed hard and sighed harder at the inadequacy of his words.

"We took Braje her to live with them and over the years, it was just for a little while that she would stay there at first, but they loved her and she loved them and forgot us, I mean forgot your mom and I were, you know."

Braje gave out an enormous sob then stood dropping Helen's hands from her.

"They were my Mom and my Dad," Braje pronounced. "And now you are and always were my mom and dad too. Not many people can say something like that. I'm blessed. I would rather not have to have them pass to find out but I have to take what the Lord gives as my trial and testing."

Daria made note of the religious seeming talk barely familiar to her as it was and tucked it in the back of her mind.

"F-," Daria said. Jake and Helen winced.

"F- and f- again," Daria continued. "Just one question, no two. Braje or whoever the Hell you are. Do you still want to hurt me? Do you want to hurt Quinn?"

"No, no," Braje instantly protested. "I forgot all about it until Aunt Helen and Uncle Jake, I mean, you know. Mom and Dad told me and we talked it out. I just remembered it as a bad dream. Daria, I was a little kid, please, please forgive me. I didn't even know you guys even existed, I want to know my kid sisters."

Before Daria could brush that aside as too early in the game, Quinn spoke up.

"Mom, Dad, um, okay, I just want to know. Well, more later but like, how did you get control oh, what do they call? Custody of her?"

Braje nodded even as the rest of the Morgendorffers gaped at Quinn's unexpectedly and uncharacteristically perceptive question.

"She's still legally ours, even if," Helen paused, "Even if she has been called 'Braje DuPont' for years."

"And that's who I still am," Braje said tightly.

Quinn shook her head not convinced or still taking it in.

"Okay, whatever. Now, second and thirdly. What's a 'Braje'? Where does that even come from? And how old are you?"

Jake started out, "When Mom was pregnant with any of you, we never took, um, things, but girls you know we were, um, indulgent on weekends only mind you, at the old commune in Iowa. One night we were pretty mellow and just tossing around names and creating names."

Jake smiled for the first time that day, "I came up with 'Braje'."

"And I liked it immediately, so strong and forceful. Just what a girl needed to fight The Man." Helen said looking at her oldest daughter.

"And I hated it at first but I'm the only one in the world with that name. I wouldn't change for the world," Braje finished. "Not even to be called 'Barbara'."

"Oh, and I'm 17, Quinn. I was real sick as a kid and they had to hold me back a year in school so I actually have two more years of school. I'll be a junior in the Fall, like Daria. In same class or two as Daria, I hope."

This was too much for Daria. She sat down hard on the ottoman. Quinn sat next to her. Daria instinctively shied away from Quinn's embrace but she leaned into it as her scar prickled suddenly.

Helen blew out a huge breath. "We're all exhausted. Okay, Daria, Quinn, this is too much I know. We've reserved a nice room for Braje at Le Grand Hotel. She can stay there a few nights until you want her here. I think that's a good way to ease into this."

Daria stood, "No, Mom, I think Quinn and I can stay at the Le Grand for a few nights on your dime. I hope you got the best room, a double. Braje can take the guest storage room here. I think that's a good way to 'ease into this'."

That said, Daria stood and nodded to Quinn. She stuck her hand out to her father who weakly put the keys to the Lexus into Daria's palm. Daria and Quinn packed wordlessly and drove off.


End file.
